A Matter of Motherhood
by WhiteFeather1965
Summary: A scene by scene rewrite of The Rookies episode "A Matter of Justice" aka "Justice for Jill Danko." What if Jill didn't lose her baby when she got shot in the back?


Disclaimer: The Rookies is owned by Spelling/Goldberg Productions. For entertainment purposes only. No copyright infringement intended.

Summary: A scene by scene rewrite of The Rookies episode "A Matter of Justice" aka "Justice for Jill Danko." What if Jill didn't lose her baby when she got shot in the back?

 **A Matter of Motherhood**

 **Chapter 1**

A man stood loading a revolver as his partner in crime looked on. When he finished sliding the last bullet into the cylinder, he examined it, slammed it shut and slid the revolver rather roughly into the leather shoulder holster under his left arm.

"Now hold it," Barbour said, his voice agitated and his brow sweaty. "Wainz, you gotta listen to me. You can't go in there and just… Think about it. Think about what you're doing. Will ya? This isn't the time. If Mr. Woodard found out about what you're…" Barbour threw his hands up in frustration, knowing that he wasn't getting through to the man standing in front of him. "Man, don't do it. For your own sake."

Wainz reached for his suit coat and began to pull it on. "I don't want to hear any more. Just no more talking. I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna get it over with and I'm gonna finish what I started."

When Barbour refused to move out of his way, Wainz grabbed him around the throat and pushed him. "Out of my way, Roy!" he shouted. "I'm warning you!" With that he jerked his hand away from Barbour's throat and opened the door. Barbour watched as it swung closed behind a retreating Wainz.

Barbour flexed his shoulders and checked his throat before he calmly walked to the telephone and dialed a number. He took a few calming breaths as he listened to the phone ring at the other end of the line.

"Mr. Woodard, we got troubles. Wainz just left here. Says he's gonna make the hit tonight."

Woodard sat holding the phone as he listened to a nearly hysterical Barbour at the other end of the line.

"Wainz is your responsibility, Barbour. You brought him into this. You stop him," Woodard said.

"I tried, Mr. Woodard. I really tried. But you can't talk to him. You know how he's been lately," Barbour said.

"Where's he going? Where'd he say he was going to make the hit?" Woodard asked.

"The restaurant. He said he was going to the restaurant," Barbour said.

TRTRTRTRTRTR

Mike and Jill stood at the head of the line and waited for a table at their favorite restaurant. Since it was so expensive to dine there, they only went there once a year on their wedding anniversary. Tonight they were celebrating three years of marriage.

Jill stood next to Mike and whispered, "This is going to cost us a fortune."

Mike turned to Jill and gave her a reassuring squeeze with the arm he had wrapped around her waist. "It's supposed to. Besides, it's our anniversary and I'm out to impress you," he whispered back.

Just then the maî'tre d' came to give them an update on the status of their table. "I'll be with you in one moment, sir. I'm sure we'll be able to work something out," he said, his mustache twitching with distaste at Mike's off the rack blue sport coat an Jill's floor length red sweater dress.

As he walked away, Jill leaned toward Mike and said, "I wonder what it will take to impress him. With me it only takes a pizza."

At this revelation Mike made a sound in his throat and rolled his eyes. "Now she tells me."

He was looking at Jill when she closed her eyes and smiled blissfully. "I could tell you something else," she said.

"What?" Mike asked.

"Nope," Jill said and shook her head, her eyes still closed. "I want it to be the right place and the right time. I want everything to be perfect."

"What are you talking about?" Mike asked.

Just then, the maî'tre d' returned. "I'm sorry, Mr. Danko, but whoever took your reservation neglected to mention your request for a specific table."

"Well. It's our anniversary and we kind of wanted to have the same table we had the first time we came in," Mike explained. "It might sound a little silly to you."

"Oh, of course, it's not silly at all. However, it might be a bit difficult to accomplish," said the maî'tre d' as he glanced toward the coveted table and rubbed his fingers together.

Ata similar gesture from Jill, Mike sorted through the wad of cash from his pocket. Jill pointed at a bill and Mike tucked it discreetly into the maî'tre d's hand.

The maî'tre d' tucked the bill into his pocket and said, "However, the couple at that table just now sat down. If you will follow me, we'll see if we can't accommodate you both."

"Thank you," said Mike and he and Jill followed in the wake of the maî'tre d' to their table.

Jill whispered to Mike, "They say love always finds a way."

"Yeah, but that way always seems to have a tollbooth at the end of it," Mike whispered back.

The maî'tre d' addressed the middle aged couple seated at the table. "Excuse me. I'm terribly sorry to inconvenience you like this, but would it be possible for you people to move to another table? I'm afraid there's been a mistake. This young couple has already made their reservations and they did indicate a desire for this table."

"I'm sorry. It's an anniversary thing. We've come here for every one of them and another table just wouldn't be the same," Mike said.

"Sure," said the man magnanimously, as he stood up and laid his napkin on the table. "No problem."

"I'll have the waiter set up another table and bring you an extra drink, compliments of the management," said the maî'tre d' and he moved away.

"I hope we haven't inconvenienced you," said Mike.

"No. Not at all. It's nice to see a young couple who knows the meaning of an anniversary," said the man. "Uh, hey. Uh, how come you didn't buy the young lady a corsage?"

Mike looked at Jill nonplussed, the color rising in his face slightly, hoping he hadn't done something to slight Jill on this most important of occasions.

The man chuckled and held out a business card to Mike. "I'm a florist. Stop by my place and we'll give her one… on the house," he said.

Mike took the business card and reached to shake the man's hand. "Thank you very much. Thank you," Mike said.

"Have a nice evening," the man said as he moved away, followed by his wife.

"You, too," said Mike.

Wainz stepped through the door of the restaurant. The maî'tre d' glanced his way and asked, "Can I help you, sir?" Wainz said nothing and continued to move away from him toward the dining area.

"Do you have a reservation? Sir, if you would like to wait in the bar," the maî'tre d' said following behind Wainz. Then, he reached for Wainz's arm and said, "I can't allow you to…"

At this Wainz turned and roared, "Don't touch me." Wainz pulled out his gun and screams from nearby diners could be heard as he began shooting.

Mike had just seated Jill and was about take his own seat when they heard the first shot. He looked on in horror as he heard a second shot and saw Jill topple to the floor. The second bullet had passed through the back of her chair and into her back. Mike crouched next to Jill's still form as Wainz fired the remaining bullets in his gun.

A split second after the shooting stopped, Mike heard the sound of dinnerware crashing to the floor as Wainz cleared one table by yanking the tablecloth from it. Mike darted toward Wainz and leaped at him. He knocked Wainz to the floor and put his lights out with a single blow to the face.

Sure that Wainz was out for the count, Mike returned to Jill. Without really knowing how, he found himself crouching next to his prone and barely conscious wife, stroking her hair. He didn't know what else to do, but keep her still and calm and wait for the ambulance.

Jill's wound was tended and she was loaded onto a gurney for transport to the hospital. Mike sat beside her and held her hand. Though her eyes were open, she was unresponsive to Mike's softly spoken words of love and encouragement.

A knot of fear curled deep in Jill's lower belly, as the searing pain of the bullet wound raged on. Though she could feel Mike's hand holding hers, she had trouble making sense of his softly spoken words. The pain in her back was so intense that every thought focused on that.

When the ambulance arrived at the hospital, Mike followed the gurney to the double doors and kissed Jill's hand before he was forced to release it. The doors closed and Mike stood for a few moments, his forehead resting against the cool wood, reluctant to leave the one place he could be closest to his beloved Jill.

A few feet from Mike, Ryker leaned over a shell shocked Mrs. Mayson, the woman that had been seated at the table at the restaurant before Mike and Jill had taken it. "Mrs. Mayson, why don't you go home now? There's nothing that you can do. Mrs. Mayson?"

When Mrs. Mayson failed to respond and continued to stare straight ahead in eerie silence, Ryker addressed the police officer standing beside her. "Drive her home." Ryker and the police officer helped Mrs. Mayson to her feet and she moved as though she was half asleep and barely aware of all the commotion around her.

Ryker turned to Webster and Gillis who stood silently behind him. "Danko is over there," Ryker said as he pointed to a hunch shouldered Mike hovering near the double doors.

"What about Jill?" Webster asked.

"Nothing yet. Just nothing," Ryker said shaking his head.

"Is it bad?" Gillis asked.

"Bad enough, Gillis. It's bad enough," Ryker said.

Webster and Gillis moved tentatively toward Mike, not knowing quite what to say.

"Hi," said Webster as Mike noticed him and Gillis approaching.

Mike put his hands in his pockets and shifted from one foot to the other a few times before he said, "Hi."

Just then the doctor, dressed in surgical scrubs, came through the double doors and stopped as Mike called out to him.

The doctor turned to address Mike. "There's not much I can tell you yet, Mr. Danko. We don't know yet what damage the bullet caused. They're setting up an OR right now and I've got to go scrub up. We'll know a little more later," the doctor said and began to move away.

"Doctor, cam I see her?" Mike asked.

"Well, they're gonna take her up and prep her in a few minutes. All right, go ahead, but don't walk in with that look on your face. It won't help," the doctor said and shook his head.

"Right," said Mike and pushed his way through the double doors.

Jill lay with her eyes tightly closed. The pain medication was working, because she could take a deep breath without stabbing, searing pain in her lower back and abdomen. She heard the doctor leave the room and a few moments later the doors opened once again. She was aware of Mike's familiar tread as he made his way across the room to stand next to the bed.

Mike came into the room and saw Jill's still form on the table. Her eyes were closed and her hands rested on her stomach. He leaned over her and began to stroke her hair. A moment later, her eyes fluttered open and Mike was captured in her beautiful but bleary brown gaze.

"Hi," she croaked.

"Hi," said Mike and continued to stroke her hair.

"Don't let this get to you, Mike. I'll be all right," Jill said, her voice cracking.

"I know that," said Mike and he nodded.

"I love you," she said.

Mike inhaled sharply before he said, "I love you, too."

Jill slid her wedding ring off her finger and offered it to Mike. "They won't let me keep this, so you keep it for me."

Mike took the ring and kissed her hand.

TRTRTRTRTRTR

 **Chapter 2**

In another part of the hospital, Wainz was brought in. His head was bandaged and he was handcuffed to the gurney. The people that lined the hallway as he was wheeled by were enraged and it took several police officers to keep them back. Wainz struggled in his bonds and shouted seeming nonsense back at them.

Webster grabbed him by the lapels of his suit coat and spoke directly into his face. "Shut up!" Webster shouted over the din made by the people in the hallway and shook him like a ragdoll. "Shut up! Just shut your mouth. Don't open it again. Let me make it clear, so you understand. There's a woman being wheeled into an operating room with a bullet you put into her. So just make yourself invisible." With that Webster let go of Wainz and pushed him away from him.

Wainz continued to struggle and spout nonsense as though he had heard nothing that Webster had said and he flailed his legs to make it difficult for his attendants to get him through a set of double doors.

TRTRTRTRTRTR

The wait at another set of double doors stretched endlessly, made only a little less tedious and nerve wracking with Ryker sitting beside Mike offering his support with an occasional touch on the shoulder or a few whispered words of encouragement. When Ryker brought Mike a cup of coffee, Mike could only raise his head long enough to indicate he didn't want any and return his head to his hands. Ryker sat down on the padded bench next to Mike and shrugged before he put both of the cups of coffee he carried under the bench and got comfortable.

Ryker glanced at Mike and asked, "Want a cigarette?"

Mike raised his head once again and glanced back. "I thought you didn't smoke."

"I don't. I just wanted to make sure you knew someone was here," Ryker said.

Ryker turned his head as Webster came out of the elevator and got up to saunter toward him. At Webster's questioning look, Ryker said, "Nothing yet. Anything about the guy who did all the shooting?"

"Ah, we're running a make on him. Should have something soon. All we've got now is his name, Steve Wainz. They finally got him sedated and police have the first shift outside his hospital room door," Webster said.

"Did he say anything? Give any motive?" Ryker asked.

"Yeah, he said something, a lot of something, all garbage. As far as motive, the neurologists just came up with a possible," said Webster.

"What's that?" asked Ryker.

"They found a brain tumor when they ran Wainz through the tests for concussion. The neurologists say that it might have been responsible for the violent behavior," said Webster.

"Do you believe that?" asked Ryker.

"Gotta believe it, don't I? Especially if they prove it. It doesn't make it any easier to accept," said Webster. "A man dead from a bullet wound, a second from a heart attack and Jill in there fighting for her life, how do I chalk that up to a growth in a man's head?"

"Are they going to operate?" asked Ryker.

"Tomorrow morning," said Webster.

"Well then, you might have something a lot tougher to get used to. Wainz could conceivably leave here a free man," Ryker said.

"What do you mean?" asked Webster.

"It's happened before. You don't need a law degree to see it for what it's worth. You got a man who has committed murder that could be tied to a tumor on the brain. All right, let's say it is. So you have insanity due to a deformity. You remove the deformity, you remove the insanity. You'll never get a conviction of murder, because it was the act of an insane man and you can't send Wainz to the institution for the criminally insane, because after the operation he no longer is," Ryker explained, his hands gesticulating to punctuate his point.

"Lieutenant, if Wainz comes out of here like you say," Webster began.

"Hold it," said Ryker as he saw the doctor come out of the double dorrs and came to stand next to Mike.

"Well, for awhile, Mr. Danko, it was close, very close. But it's over and I've taken your wife off the critical list," said the doctor.

Mike shook the doctor's hand and the doctor looked on indulgently Mike rambled his thanks. "You had her in there so long, I didn't know what to expect."

"Well, there was a clot on the spine we had to deal with before we could go in for the bullet. Then, there's the baby. Your wife appears to be about eight weeks along and despite everything that has happened; it seems to still be viable and firmly attached. We'll monitor your wife for signs of miscarriage and recommend that the remainder of her pregnancy be closely monitored by a doctor who specializes in high risk pregnancy," the doctor continued. Mike glanced at Ryker and could only stare at the doctor in disbelief.

"I assumed you were aware she was pregnant. Oh, no need to worry too much. As long as she takes it easy and follows her doctor's instructions, she and the baby should be just fine," the doctor said and touched Mike on the upper arm. "Nonetheless, that's one lucky lady you've got there. You'll be able to see her in a little while." With that the doctor was gone.

Mike glanced at Ryker once again, still not believing what he had just heard. Was it true? Was Jill going to have a baby, their baby? Ryker stood still in Mike's gaze, a tentative smile playing about his lips.

Ryker, not knowing what else to do, slapped Mike on the shoulder and shook his hand vigorously. "Congratulations, Danko."

"Yeah. Thanks, Lieutenant," Mike said and looked from Ryker to Webster, who stood within earshot. "You can tell Willie, but I want to keep this quiet for a little while. Jill and I need to… to … you know."

Ryker nodded. "Yeah, I know," he said softly.

It was another hour before Jill was settled in a room and Mike was allowed to see her. He stood for several moments in the doorway to her room, carefully examining the woman he loved. She lay on the bed pale and still with her eyes closed. Her hand lay on her lower belly as though protecting the tiny life within or mourning its loss, Mike couldn't tell which.

Mike moved quietly into the room and sat in the chair next to the bed. He took Jill's hand and cradled it in both of his. Now, assured that his beloved Jill was going to be all right, his shoulders slumped and it was not long before he too fell asleep.

A moment or an eternity later, Jill could not tell how much time had passed, she began to stir. As her eyes fluttered open, she glanced around the room and her eyes came to rest on her husband, slumped in the chair, sound asleep, his warm hand wrapped around hers.

"Mike?" she croaked.

At the sound of his wife's voice, Mike stirred and sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Hey, Babe. I fell asleep," he said as he stood to rest a hand on her upper arm and plant a gentle kiss on her forehead.

Jill blinked blearily, her mind still foggy and sluggish from the anesthesia and the pain medication. "That's okay. Am I gonna be all right?" she asked.

Mike wiped his free hand across his face. "Yeah, the doctor said you're gonna be fins, just fine."

Tears gathered in Jill's as she asked, "But I lost the baby, didn't I?"

At this Mike shook his head and smiled. "No, Jill. You didn't lose the baby."

Jill's expression brightened and she smiled through her tears. "Oh, Mike. Are you sure?"

Mike reached to stroke her hair. "The doctor said as far as they can tell, the baby is still viable and firmly attached. They will be monitoring you for signs of miscarriage, but as long as you take it easy and follow your doctor's instructions, you and the baby should be all right," mike answered.

Jill patted a spot on the bed and invited Mike to sit down. When he did, Jill's mood turned pensive as she ran her finger up and down under the lapel of Mike's sport coat. She did this several times before she looked up and met Mike's eyes.

"I was going to tell you last night about the baby," she said as her finger continued to move up and down under Mike's lapel.

Mike flashed on them waiting for their table at the restaurant and Jill's closed eyes and her softly smiling lips when she said she could tell him something else, but she wanted the time and place to be perfect.

She took his hand and laid it on her belly. "It was my surprise, my gift for our anniversary," she said as she laid her hand on top of his and laced their fingers.

Mike reached to stroke her hair and said, "Ah, Babe. I love your gift and I love you." He paused and took a black velvet jewelry box from his coat pocket. "I have something for you, too. In all the commotion I didn't get a chance to give it to you."

Jill took the box and opened it. On a bed of black velvet lay a solitaire diamond pendant on a gold chain. Jill was stunned.

Mike looked at Jill, but her expression was unreadable. "Do you like it?" He looked down. "I only wish it could be bigger."

"Oh, Mike. I love it. It's beautiful," she said, breathless.

"I thought it would look amazing around your neck, a kind of badge of honor for putting up with me for the last three years," he said as he took the necklace and put it around her neck. He admired the effect as he said, "But it doesn't hold a candle to what you have given me."

Mike leaned forward and kissed Jill lightly on the lips. Then he closed his eyes and rested his forehead on hers. She breathed rapidly for a moment and let it all come out, as tears leaked from behind her closed eyelids.

"Ah, Babe. Don't cry," Mike said and wiped at a tear with the pad of his thumb. "You're gonna be all right and the baby is fine. Whatcha got to cry about?"

Jill drew back and shook her head. "It's not that. I'm alive and the baby is alive and I put you through hell thinking I wasn't going to be here for you," Jill said.

Mike put a finger to her lips. "Shhh. Don't talk like that. You didn't do that, the guy who shot you did. It's just a simple case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Jill picked up the diamond and held it, for a moment deep in thought. Then she looked up. "What makes you think I put up with you? I love you and there is no place on this earth I'd rather be than with you. Don't you know that by now?" she said, her voice rising.

"Shhh," Mike soothed. "If I didn't know it before, I certainly know it now. Look… you need to rest and I need to check in at the precinct. I'll stay until you fall back to sleep and I'll be back later. I love you, you know."

"Yeah, I know," Jill said softly and a smile played about her lips. "The medication is making me a bit sleepy," she said as she touched Mike's face and closed her eyes. Just before she drifted into deeper sleep, she felt Mike kiss her on the forehead and shift slightly in his place on the bed. Mike stayed with Jill until he was sure she was asleep and went to the precinct.

TRTRTRTRTRTR

Ryker stood behind the desk on the dais and conducted morning muster. "A report from the local fire department shows malicious mischief. No arson charges are going to be pressed however. A couple of kids were seen in the street behind the paint shop, smoking whatever it is twelve year olds smoke these days. Phillips, I want you to fill in on Danko's patrol until otherwise notified. Gillis, take the next eight hour shift at the hospital outside Wainz's door. Older, I want you to assign Fredricks and Costa to the remaining two shifts. And that's it. Check your pin maps. Hit the streets."

Webster came through the doors and went straight to Ryker with the file he held.

"Lieutenant," Webster said as he handed him the file.

Ryker opened it and began reading from the file. "Wainz, Steven R., age 37, previous convictions: 6 counts assault and manslaughter."

"The manslaughter was a fight started over an argument for a parking space," Webster clarified.

"One of our model citizens," Ryker said.

"He's consistent," Gillis chimed in.

"That's what this make sheet proves – consistency. If they can get that tumor out and they can point to it as the cause for his violent behavior…" Webster said.

Ryker cut him off. "Too many ifs, Webster. We'll wait for the results and handle them one at a time."

"Well, the first one's in," Mike said as he wondered slump shouldered into the room. All three men turned and watched as Mike sprawled his lanky frame in a desk. "I checked on Wainz before I left the hospital. They operated this morning; the tumor's out."

Ryker, Webster and Gillis all looked at each other, none of them for the moment knowing what to say, as Mike continued.

"It's funny. Until last night the biggest problem in our lives was what Jill might fix for dinner. What do I do now? Just accept the fact that some nut can come in off the street and for no reason almost destroy everything we've got going," Mike said and ran his fingers through his hair.

"Uh, Gillis, you have an assignment. Webster, go file this make sheet on Wainz," Ryker said and flicked his eyes toward the door. Webster and Gillis reluctantly left the room as Ryker came to stand in front of Mike.

"It just doesn't make sense, Lieutenant. They want to blame what he did on a growth inside his head." Mike spread his arms and waved them around before he put his hands on top of his head. "He killed two men. He shot my wife and nearly caused us to lose our baby, for Christ's sake. I wanna know why!"

Ryker said, "There may not be a reason. I don't know. Maybe he has it in for rich people and just felt like shooting up the place." Ryker raised a placating hand when Mike raised his head and looked at him with angry eyes.

"Come on, Danko. I'll drive you home and you can get some rest," Ryker said.

"I just came from home, that hospital room. Jill's going to be all right and the baby is fine for now. We got the guy who shot her, but it doesn't make sense somehow. Why, out of all the places in this town did Wainz pick that particular restaurant to crack in? Hell, he looked like he never put more than $50 in his pocket at any one time. What was he doing in a place like that? Why yesterday? Why not tomorrow? Why not the day before?" Mike asked.

"I don't have any answers to your questions right now. Maybe there just aren't any," Ryker said.

"There are. There just has to be and I'm going to find them, for me and for Jill. I can't let the maniac that shot my wife and almost killed my baby go free," Mike said as he levered himself up from the desk and walked toward the door.

Ryker looked on in disbelief as Mike disappeared into the hallway.

TRTRTRTRTRTR

 **Chapter 3**

At the hospital, Gillis knocked on the door to Jill's hospital room and stuck his head inside. "Hi, Is it okay if I come in for a second? My shift starts in a few minutes and I thought I would drop by and see if you needed anything."

Gillis now stood at the foot of Jill's bed and was surprised when he saw her smile. "I don't really need anything, Willie, but I do have this terrible craving for a chocolate bar," Jill said.

Gillis smiled back and ran finger along the foot rail of the bed. "As you know, I'm not one for breaking the rules, but I'll see what I can do about sneaking one in for you. How's that?"

"Thanks, Willie. I always knew I could count on you," she said and chuckled, then winced when her back began to pain her.

"I'll be back. You take care, okay?" said Gillis as he walked out of the room.

TRTRTRTRTRTR

Barbour poured a mixed drink into a glass and brought it to Woodard.

"Woodard?" Barbour called.

"Oh, thank you. Thank you, Roy," Woodard said as he took the drink from Barbour's hand and tasted it. He moved to sit on the couch and as he sat down, he said, "Mmmm, that's good."

"If it needs more vermouth, I'll be glad to fix it," Barbour blustered.

"No, Barbour. Will you stop acting like a little old lady? The drink's fine, just fine. Now, relax," said Woodard.

"It's hard to relax when we're talking about killing Steve. For all you know, we're sticking our necks out for nothing. You gotta think about that," Barbour said.

"I did. From where I'm sitting, I'll take the odds on killing him," Woodard said.

"He's my friend. I've known him a long time," Barbour said.

"Barbour, I don't want to hear about your love life. Wainz knows enough about us to be our executioner," Woodard said.

"You don't know for sure if he's gonna talk," Barbour said.

"No, but there's one thing I do know for sure. I don't want to wake up every morning thinking that maybe this is the day that madman will finger me to the cops," said Woodard.

TRTRTRTRTRTR

Gillis stood his post outside Wainz's hospital room door and heard Wainz call to him.

"Hey, you outside, come here a minute," Wainz called from his hospital bed.

Gillis unlocked the door and flung it open. "Listen. If you want anything, just push that button on the side of your bed and a nurse will come in," he said, his voice clipped and carefully controlled.

"I was just wondering how that girl I shot was doing. Could you find out for me?" Wainz asked.

"Why?" Gillis asked

"Just interested, that's why," Wainz said.

"She'll live to testify against you," Gillis announced.

"That's not what I wanted. Thanks anyway. At least I know she's still alive," Wainz said.

"Yeah, she's alive and so is her baby. She's pregnant and you almost killed her baby," Gillis said through gritted teeth, his patience almost at an end.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say," said Wainz as he put his glasses back on.

"Why did you do it?" Gillis asked.

"I don't know. Why doesn't make any difference anyway, does it? Even saying sorry doesn't do nothing. I've been sorry most of my life. Nothing's ever changed," Wainz said.

Gillis glowered at Wainz as he turned to close and lock the door. As he resumed his post, Wainz lay on the bed smiling.

TRTRTRTRTRTR

Mike and Webster were at the restaurant continuing the investigation.

"The names for all the reservations for that night are on here and the tables where they sat. There were twelve parties that were no show. I have no idea how many of the names are genuine. Well, you know how it is. A man takes his girlfriend out to dinner, he doesn't want anyone to know about it," the maî'tre d' explained as he pointed out the layout in a folder he held.

"What about Wainz? Did he say anything to you or anyone when he came in?" Webster asked.

"Well, al he said was, 'Don't touch me!' Then he turned around and started shooting," the maî'tre d' said.

"'Don't touch me!' Was he looking in a certain direction? Did his eyes land on anyone in particular?" Webster asked.

"I wasn't looking at his eyes, officer. All I saw was the gun," said the maî'tre d'. Then he looked toward the dining area of the restaurant as he continued. "You know, it's funny how things work out. I mean if he and his wife had taken another table instead of the one they wanted."

"Thank you," said Webster as the maî'tre d' moved away from him.

Mike, who had been leaning on a rail nearby, moved to stand at the top of the steps leading to the dining area. He blew out a breath and said, "He's right you know, if we had taken another table."

"What are you getting at?" asked Webster.

"It's here. All I gotta do is understand it." He formed his thumb and forefinger into a gun and pointed it at each place where a bullet impacted. "He took his first shot there, there, there and there."

"So?" Webster prompted.

Then Mike held his hands about a foot and a half apart to show the width of the shot pattern. "It's a line. It's a straight line. He didn't scatter his shots."

"Is he supposed to?" Webster asked.

"Well, yeah. If he is what everyone says he is, a psycho, a man reacting out of no other motive than a madness brought on by a tumor. He… he would have scattered his shots. He would have tried to kill as many people as possible," Mike explained excitedly.

"Now, hold it. Hold it. Hold it," said Webster as he came to stand at eye level with Mike. "You can't argue with a tumor. It was there. They took it out."

"I'm gonna see if I can get that floor plan," said Mike as he began to move toward the doorway.

"Hold it. Hold it. I don't know what you think you've got," Webster said. "It might be something, but I don't see, not yet."

"I got more than I had a hour ago," Mike said.

TRTRTRTRTRTR

Later, in Ryker's office, Mike showed Ryker the floor plan and explained his theory.

"You got nothing, Danko," said Ryker.

Mike pointed to places on the floor plan laid out on Ryker's desk as he said, ""All I'm saying is that Wainz was after something or someone when he walked in and opened up in that place."

"You're speculating," Ryker said.

"Of course, I am. But what if I'm right?" Mike asked.

"Then what you have, you'll have to prove it, because what you have will be thrown out of court," Ryker said.

Mike picked up a sheaf of papers from the desk. "This report by the neurologists and staff psychiatrists, that won't be thrown out. What they have is every bit as speculative," he said and pointed at the papers. "There's no way they can be 100% sure. It's an educated guess. But that's all it is, an educated guess."

"It's more than that. It's expert testimony," Ryker said.

Mike threw the sheaf of papers back onto Ryker's desk and sat down, his arm folded defiantly over his chest. "And that can get Wainz off. Right?" he said.

Ryker came around his desk as he said, "It might unless you can come up with something more substantial than you've got."

"Such as?" Mike prompted.

"Premeditation for one thing, motive for another. Tumor or no tumor, evidence of that sort would nail Wainz. If it's out there and we can find it. Danko, maybe it's time you stopped and asked yourself a question: What is it you're after? Is it a matter of justice or revenge?" Ryker asked.

Mike looked up and said, "Oh, it's a lot more than that, Lieutenant. I've gotta find something, anything. I'm trying to prove to Jill and to myself that it's not all chance. There has to be more to it than that. I've gotta have that, Lieutenant, or I'll never feel right about it and neither will Jill." Mike grabbed the doorknob and walked out of Ryker's office.

Ryker watched him go, visibly staggered by what Mike had said.

TRTRTRTRTRTR

Mike and Webster continued their investigation by driving to the flower shop owned by Mr. Mayson, one of the shooting victims.

"The flower shop has gotta be around here somewhere. This is the address on the card Mayson gave me at the restaurant. There it is on the corner," Mike said pointing. Webster turned into the parking area of the flower shop.

Inside Mike and Webster found a hand bell in a niche in the wall with a sign above it that said: Ring bell for service. Mike rang the bell and the voice of a young man greeted them from the back of the store.

"Be with you in a minute," the voice said.

Mike and Webster walked toward the voice and met a young man coming up from the back wiping his hands as he went.

"Hiya," said Webster.

"Can I help you guys?" the young man asked.

"We'd like to talk to Mrs. Mayson," said Webster.

"I'm sorry man. I thought I had a first. I never sold flowers to a cop before. You should've seen the fantasies I had. Both of you in uniform walking out of here with bouquet of daisies a piece. Wild," the young man said.

Mike and Webster just looked at him and said nothing. Webster had a smirky grin on his face in reaction to the young man's excitement.

"Mrs. Mayson, right? I don't know where she is. I haven't seen her for, let's see, four days now. Yeah, ever since the funeral," the young man said.

"You a… run the place?" asked Webster.

"Nothing like that. Delivery boy. I came in the day after the funeral, but she never showed up. I called, but she wasn't home. I went over to the apartment and the manager told me she split. Took a couple of suitcases with her," the young man said.

"Do you know where she could have gone? Any relatives or…" Mike asked.

"No." The young man shook his head. "No family that I know about. I don't think she went visiting. I think she went running."

"Why running?" asked Webster.

"The way she was at the funeral. She looked more scared than sad," the young man said.

"Well, you're pretty perceptive. Maybe perceptive enough to tell us why she might have been scared," Webster said.

"Oh, that doesn't take perception, not even a good memory. A guy came into the place about a month ago. He took Mr. Mayson back in the work room. When they came out, Mr. Mayson looked like the world was breaking up. Mrs. Mayson said something about selling the place, but her husband said it would all work out," the young man said.

Mike showed the young man a mugshot of Wainz. "Could that have been the guy that came in that day?" he asked.

"No. Not him. I never saw him before. Mr. Mayson called the guy who was here… um… Woodard, Vic Woodard," the young man said.

"You know anything more about this Woodard?" mike asked.

'Nothing. Oh, except there was another guy with him, but he stayed outside. Don't know his name," the young man said.

Mike looked at Webster, who said, "Thanks, man." And they left the shop.

TRTRTRTRTRTR

 **Chapter 4**

Jill was asleep when Mike came to see her at the hospital and she appeared to be having a pretty intense dream.

"Jill?" Mike said as he came toward the bed. He moved the chair and was about to sit down, when Jill abruptly sat up.

Mike caught her in his arms as she screamed out his name.

"Mike! Mike!"

"I'm here. I'm here. Shhh. It's okay. Shhh. Easy," Mike said softly as he tried to ease her back down to the bed.

Finally, she lay back and said, "I was dreaming about the baby. I saw him. We were at the park. I was sitting on the edge of the sandbox watching him play in the sand. Then suddenly someone started shooting. I was shot in the back and fell to the ground. I reached out to him, but I just couldn't get to him. I tried, but I just couldn't. I tried. I really tried and then he sank into the sand. He was just swallowed up."

Mike stroked her hair and said, "Shhh. It's just a dream. That's all it is. It's just a dream. It'll pass."

"With all that's happened, do you really think… I can carry this baby to term? Is it just a pipe dream to want to be a family?" asked Jill, her voice still rusty with sleep and tears.

"I don't see why not. The doctor says everything looks good and you're healing well. We can do this," Mike said.

"We?" Jill asked.

"Yes, we," Mike said and laid a gentle hand on her belly, just now beginning to add a subtle curve to Jill's normally flat stomach. "You forget that the baby in there is mine, too and it isn't coming out until it's time for it to."

"Really?" Jill asked.

"Yes, really. What kind of a father would I be if I…" Mike said. Jill interrupted him by putting her hands on his face and her thumbs on his lips.

"Shhh. Okay. We'll do this together," Jill said softly. "I'm really tired. Healing and being pregnant really take a lot out of me. Stay till I fall asleep again. I love you." Jill pulled Mike toward her for a kiss. Mike was gentle as he moved his lips against hers.

Then, Jill touched his face and turned onto her side. Mike watched his beautiful wife as she closed her eyes and her breathing became slow and even, her face calm and at peace.

A lump formed in his throat as he watched his wife sleep and it hit him what he had almost lost, the love of his life and a child he would never know. A single tear dripped onto the sheet as he sighed. Then he quietly left the room.

Jill opened her eyes as the door swung shut, puzzled at Mike's show of emotion. She touched the wet spot left by Mike's tear and brought it to her face as her own tears trickled to join it.

TRTRTRTRTRTR

Woodard and Barbour sat in a car in the hospital parking lot outside the rear entrance. They both watched as an ambulance slowly left the parking lot.

"Suppose we got it wrong. Suppose today ain't even the day. We could be here all week," Barbour groused.

"I'd wait a month if I had to. This might be the only chance we get," Woodard said.

"Yeah. Well I'll tell you straight out. I don't like the whole thing. I'm dead scared," Barbour said.

"You've got it mixed up, Barbour. What you mean is we're dead if we don't do it. If we do, you're only scared," Woodard said and shrugged.

Barbour looked around and smoothed his tie. "I wish we could get this on already," he said.

"Well, you got it baby," Woodard said as he saw a police van pull into the parking lot and park at the hospital entrance. He started the car and said, "Won't be long now."

Barbour pulled out his gun and chambered a bullet as he watched a police officer open the back of the van and walk toward the hospital entrance. It was only seconds before two more officers came out escorting Wainz, his hands cuffed behind his back, the bandage on his head forming a sort of cap.

Wainz stepped up into the back of the van and took a seat on the bench inside. One of the officers undid one handcuff to latch it to a bar above the bench. Before the officer could restrain him, Wainz shouted as the car came at them and Woodard and Barbour began shooting at them. Not yet restrained, Wainz jumped from the van and made a break for it, as officers returned fire.

The officers shot several holes in the back window and shot out a tire. The car careened away and took out a lamppost before it came to a stop. As two officers went to check on the occupants of the car, one officer stood for a moment looking at the empty van and began searching the area for Wainz. There was no sign of him.

Moments later the parking lot was crawling with police officers as they processed the area and gave medical attention to Woodard and Barbour.

"The one that's still alive is Roy Barbour. The other man's name is Vic Woodard," Gillis said as he handed the mugshots to Ryker.

"We're close," said Mike. He's the one that came to see Mayson about a month ago. There was a guy that waited outside. It could have been Barbour."

"Well, go inside and find out," said Ryker.

"Ah, Lieutenant, I'm afraid that we won't be able to talk to him. They're wheeling him straight up to surgery and they don't think he's gonna make it," said Gillis.

"What about Wainz?" Mike asked.

"We'll find him," Ryker said.

"No. No. I mean… There's gotta be a connection between these three. They were after him and they took a very big chance in trying to kill him, Lieutenant, and I don't think that's just speculation," Mike said.

"All right, Danko. All right, I know it's not. All it is now is another question, just another question," Ryker said and pointed at Mike. "You get back to the station and run a want on those two men and a make on that car." He point to Gillis. "Gillis, you wait here till the lab boys are all through. Let's go."

Ryker went into the hospital and Mike got into a patrol car and left the parking lot.

TRTRTRTRTRTR

 **Chapter 5**

Mrs. Mayson tentatively opened the door as she came into the precinct and walked up to the counter. "I'd like to talk to the man in charge, please," she said.

Sergeant Older said, "That'd be Lieutenant Ryker, ma'am, but he's not in his office right now. Can I help you?"

"No. I think I'd better talk to him. Lieutenant Ryker, you said," Mrs. Mayson said.

"Yes, ma'am. His office is right down there. He's out now, but he shouldn't be too long. You can sit on that bench and wait if you'd like," Sergeant Older said.

"Yes, I think I'll do that. Thank you," Mrs. Mayson said. She made her way to the bench and sat down.

TRTRTRTRTRTR

Ryker came into Jill's hospital room to find her sitting in a chair reading a book.

"Can we talk?" Ryker asked.

"About what, Lieutenant?" Jill asked as she looked up.

"About you and me," he said and tossed his hat on the bureau. Then he came to stand in front of her and dropped to his knees to come to eye level with her.

Jill looked at her book, marked the page and dropped it on the floor next to her chair.

Ryker took both of her hands in his and looked into her eyes. "We've been friends for awhile now and I have told you things about myself that almost nobody else knows." He smiled and tilted his head slightly. "Now, the young lady I love like a daughter is having a baby." He shook his head as tears came to his eyes. "You know, I couldn't be happier for you and Mike and I know you will make a great mother."

Jill squeezed Ryker's hands and returned his smile. She knew that he struck terror into the hearts of many officers at the precinct, but she had been one of the few people he had allowed to see the marshmallow soft center of his soul, the gentle and loving man that hid behind the lieutenant's stripes and the badge.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. I know it's a little early to be thinking about such things, but Mike and I talked it over some time ago and we would like you to be our baby's godfather, sort of an adopted grandfather, if you are willing," Jill said.

Ryker shook his head again as more tears came to his eyes. He got up and wandered toward the door, his legs barely holding him up. He did not want Jill to see him cry.

Afraid she had offended him in some way with her request, Jill asked, "Lieutenant? Did I say something wrong?"

Ryker took out a handkerchief and wiped at his face, before he came to stand behind her and place his hands gently on her shoulders. "No, sweet lady. Never in a million years," he said softly. "I would be honored beyond words to be your child's godfather."

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Could you do me one more favor?" she asked.

"What's that?" Ryker asked.

Jill pointed to a place on her cheek and said, "Could you kiss me right here?"

Ryker bent down and placed his lips gently on her cheek, as he felt Jill's warm hand wrap around the back of his neck.

"Thank you. Thank you, dear friend," Jill whispered.

Ryker pecked her on the lips and retrieved his hat. He glanced back and saw Jill's brilliant smile, as he opened the door and was gone.

Jill's smile remained as she noticed a definite spring in his step.

TRTRTRTRTRTR

Mike came into the precinct to find Webster at the desk usually occupied by Sergeant Older.

"Terry, what's from the hospital?" Mike asked.

"Didn't make it. Died on the table," Webster said.

"Oh, great. Now, we've got as much as we had before," Mike said and glanced around.

"Less. We haven't got Wainz," Webster said.

"What's she doing here?" Mike asked and hitched a thumb at the bench where Mrs. Mayson sat, patiently waiting for Lieutenant Ryker to return.

"Who?" asked Webster.

"That's Mrs. Mayson. Get Ryker on the phone. He's at the hospital," Mike said and walked toward the bench. "Mrs. Mayson?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't recognize you in that uniform," Mrs. Mayson said as she caught sight of Mike and stood up.

"Please, sit down," Mike said. "Where have you been? We've been looking all over for you."

"I thought you might be. I'm sorry. I should have come to the police when it all began. If I did, my husband might still have been alive," said Mrs. Mayson.

"I'm not sure I understand you and I'd like to, "Mike said.

"It wasn't what the papers and everybody thought. My husband wasn't killed by chance. They murdered him," said Mrs. Mayson.

"Who are they?" asked Mike.

"Steve Wainz, Roy Barbour and Vic Woodard. It all started about six months ago. My husband was in a rush to retire. Woodard talked him into doing business his way. He told my husband he'd have enough money to retire in a year. He retired in less, Mr. Danko. They brought Ricky into our shop as a delivery boy, they said, but that was only half his job. He was to look for the right homes and apartments for the three of them to burglarize," Mrs. Mayson explained.

"Why would they kill him if he was part of it?" Mike asked.

"They accused him of cheating on them," Mrs. Mayson said.

"How?" Mike asked.

"The stolen properties had to be held in our shop for at least a month, until they felt secure enough to sell them to someone," Mrs. Mayson said.

"A fence," Mike guessed.

"Yes, that's what they called him. There was one very profitable burglary. In one house they found jewels worth over $150,000. They had to leave these in our shop for over two months. Finally, Woodard brought this man, this fence, to look at them. The jewels were gone. They accused my husband of stealing them," Mrs. Mayson said.

"So, after the funeral, you thought you'd be next. Then you ran," Mike said.

"Yes, till it dawned on me that life isn't all that worthwhile anymore. I want these men punished, Mr. Danko, no matter what the consequences are to me," Mrs. Mayson said.

"They already have been. Two of them are dead. Look, would you please stay here? Lieutenant Ryker will be back in a few minutes. Tell him _everything_ you told me. Thank you, Mrs. Mayson. Thank you very much," Mike said and walked away.

TRTRTRTRTRTR

Wainz showed up at the flower shop, the handcuffs still dangling from his left wrist. He found Ricky at a table in the workroom repotting a plant.

"I'll need you to get these off me, Ricky," Wainz said.

A startled Ricky glanced up with fear in his eyes, as Wainz moved toward him.

"Are you afraid of me? Is that it? You think I'm like I was before? I'm not the same anymore. They fixed me," Wainz said.

"Sure, Mr. Wainz," said Ricky as his eyes fixed on the bandage on Wainz's head.

"I'm as safe as a baby," said Wainz as he touched the bandage. He picked up the dangling end of the handcuffs and showed it to Ricky. "Now you get something to get these off with."

"Um, I don't know," said Ricky. He turned to look through a toolbox on the shelf behind him.

Wainz delved with his fingers into the pot Ricky had been working on and came up with a jeweled necklace.

Ricky rushed toward him. "The police came by. I told them about Woodard and Barbour. I figured they'd take care of them for us," Ricky said.

"They did. You and me set up real good, kid. We got the two of them to think Mayson was holding out on 'em. You really did a good job," said Wainz as he held the necklace up to the light.

"I didn't know you got out, Mr. Wainz. I'd have never gone without you, if I'd known. You believe me don't you?" Ricky said.

Wainz blew potting soil from the necklace and said, "Does Batman trust Robin? That's you, the Boy Wonder. You almost got away with it all, didn't you?"

"Not now. We'll split it, right? You and me, like we planned," Ricky said.

Wainz bounced the necklace in his hand a few times and put it in his suit coat pocket. "Yeah, we'll split it." He swung the dangling end of the handcuffs and caught it in his hand. "Now, you got anything to get this thing off?"

Ricky backed away slightly, thinking that Wainz might hit him.

"Ah, come on. Come over here. Come on. Get over here," said Wainz, beckoning.

Ricky moved closer, looking as though he might bolt at any second.

Wainz continued, "Now, I'm not nuts anymore. I'm different now. Do you remember that time that Woodard slapped me?" Ricky nodded, still on the defensive. "Now, if you and Barbour hadn't pulled me off of him, I would have killed him. That's one thing that really gets to me, a slap in the face."

Wainz took off his glasses. "Slap me, Ricky," he said.

Ricky just looked at Wainz and mutely shook his head.

"All right, if you won't slap me, then I'll slap you. Fair enough?" Wainz said. He grabbed Ricky by the lapels of his jacket and slung him around. Then he backhanded the boy across the face.

After Wainz let him go, Ricky wiped at his face with the back of his hand and looked at him with fear in his eyes once more.

"All right now, I'll give you another chance. Slap me," Wainz commanded.

Ricky smacked him flat handed on the cheek.

Wainz was surprisingly calm as he put his glasses back on. "Even a little slap like that before would have been enough for me to kill you," he said.

Ricky nodded and began to relax a little.

"I'm different now. I didn't crack up. They really did a good job on me," Wainz said as he touched his bandage once again. "Like they said they would. Great, huh? 'Course that don't mean that I can't kill anybody I want to. Now, does it? The only thing is, it did me a favor. The next time I've gotta burn somebody, I can do it and keep my head on. You know what I'm talking about, Ricky?" Wainz said.

Suddenly, Wainz lunged at Ricky and got his arms around his throat. Ricky struggled in Wainz's grasp, but he was too strong. Just then, the service bell rang.

"What is that sound? What is that sound?" Wainz asked. "I'm gonna wring your neck like a chicken."

"Ricky?" Mike called. "Ricky?"

"You get in there and you talk to that cop. Keep him busy for five minutes. Remember, I got away from 'em before and I can do it again. I'll come for you. Five minutes buys you your life," Wainz said and pushed Ricky away from him.

As soon as Wainz let Ricky go, he darted toward the front of the shop. The second he saw Mike, he pointed toward the back of the shop and shouted, "He's back there in the workroom. Wainz. He's making for the back door."

Mike drew his gun and ran toward the back of the shop. Wainz got the drop on him and broke a potted plant over his head. Mike went down and his gun skittered from his hand. He lay there on the floor, dazed, as Wainz picked up the gun and hid it behind his back. He faced Ricky, who stood several yards away.

"You're predictable, Ricky, and dead," Wainz said, as he raised the gun and pulled the trigger. Ricky lunged sideways to avoid the shot. Angry that he had missed, Wainz fired the gun again.

Wainz heard sirens in the distance and turned to look out the side window, as a police car pulled up and two officers got out. He came darting toward the back of the shop as Mike sat up and shook his head to clear it.

Mike got up and saw Wainz coming toward him. Mike tackled him around the waist and drove him farther into the recesses of the shop. Mike slammed him against a wall and flung him into a table. Wainz came at him and punched him in the face. Mike grabbed him by the arm and swung him against another table.

Wainz kicked at Mike and flung a potted plant at him. It missed and crashed through a stained glass window. Mike punched Wainz in the stomach a few times and then punched him in the face. Wainz stumbled and knocked over a wooden lattice wall display.

Angry beyond reason, Wainz came out from under it roaring and charging. Mike drop kicked him in the stomach and Wainz staggered backward. He fell and remained still, as Mike threw pieces of the lattice wall aside.

"We got this one. You need any help?" Webster asked as he and Gillis came in dragging a cuffed Ricky with them.

Mike picked up his gun and holstered it. "No. I can handle it," he said and hauled Wainz to his feet. "I'm gonna cuff him. I'm gonna read him his rights. Take some evidence into custody," he said as he took the jeweled necklace from Wainz's pocket and bounced it on his palm a few times, before he grasped it. "And I think I'm gonna take my wife some flowers, too. You know?" Pushing Wainz before him, Mike and the others left the flower shop.

TRTRTRTRTRTR

Jill had come home from the hospital that day. Jill sat at the dining room table and watched Mike fix her dinner.

"Boy that smells great. What is it?" Jill asked.

"You're gonna love it. I took a couple eggs, put some of this stuff in it," Mike said and pointed at the spice rack hanging on the wall next to him. "Then I whipped it around." He brought it to the table. "Specialty of the house."

Before he could set it down, Jill pushed it away and said, "You're gonna spoil me."

"Yeah, I'd like to spoil you and the baby," Mike said as he leaned over her. His hand dropped to gently rest on her belly and he kissed her.

They continued to kiss and the doorbell rang. They ignored it until whomever was ringing it got insistent.

Mike groaned as he pulled away and rested his forehead on hers for a moment. He reluctantly moved to answer the door and turned back to say, "Don't go away."

Mike opened the door to reveal Webster and Gillis each holding a pizza and two young ladies, presumably their dates.

"Hey," said Webster, as the door swung open.

"Hey," said Mike and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Just thought we would see how the little woman is doing," Webster said.

"We even bought dinner. Aren't you going to invite us in?" asked Gillis.

"Well, that's terrific guys, but…" Mike began.

Just then, Jill came up with two glasses and handed one to Mike. "Actually, you know ladies and gentlemen, we've um, we've already got plans," she said.

"Wine, Jill?" Gillis asked.

Jill leaned toward him and whispered, "Sparkling cider." When she smelled the pizza, she stepped back and put a finger to her lips. "I'll just… I'm just gonna…" she croaked and shoved her glass at Mike. They all watched as Jill made a beeline for the bathroom.

Mike shrugged. "I guess no pizza for us tonight."

"What are we gonna do with all this pizza?" Gillis asked.

"I hear reheated pizza makes a very nutritious breakfast. Listen, I'm gonna go see if Jill needs anything. Good night all," Mike said as he closed the door. As he turned away, Mike heard Webster say, "I sure hope Jill is all right."

Mike moved toward the bathroom and set the glasses on the night stand. He found Jill on the bathroom floor, her head resting against the wall, her eyes closed. He immediately came to crouch beside her.

"Jill, are you all right?" Mike asked, as he touched her face.

Jill's eyes fluttered open and she struggled to sit up. "Yeah, I'm all right."

"I guess pizza doesn't impress you anymore?" Mike asked.

Jill was sitting up now, her back against the wall, her arms wrapped around her knees.

"No, it just doesn't impress the baby," she said and sighed.

"Come on. Let's get you to bed. It's bound to be more comfortable than that cold tile floor," Mike said and scooped her up in his arms.

Mike reveled in the feel of Jill's head resting on his shoulder, her face close to his, her slender body clutched against his chest. He kissed her on the forehead before he deposited her on the bed and pulled the covers up around her.

Jill caught Mike's arm as he moved away from her. "Where are you going?"

"To take care of dinner. Back in a flash?" Mike said and smiled.

"Nah, it can wait," Jill said and curled her forefinger. "Come here."

Mike quickly changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants, before he snuggled down next to Jill on the bed. They forgot all about dinner as Jill lay with her head on Mike's chest, lulled into a peaceful calm by the rhythmic thud of his heart and the slow rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

Mike lazily stroked her hair and his heart was full to bursting as he watched his beloved Jill drift into sleep. He was thankful to the very depths of his soul that Jill was completely healed and the baby was doing well. She was almost 12 weeks along and she had shown no signs of miscarriage. At least for now, all was right with the world. Mike lightly brushed the backs of his fingers against Jill's belly and said a silent good night to the baby and he too drifted off to sleep.

TRTRTRTRTRTR

 **Epilogue – 6 Months Later**

Mike sat in the recliner next to the bed, his newborn son cuddled against his chest. Jill was still asleep and she looked so adorable and peaceful, he just couldn't bring himself to wake her. It had been tough on her the last few months after she had a premature labor scare and was put on strict bed rest with the threat of hospitalization if she did not comply. How they both got through it without going insane, Mike would never know.

Just then, the baby let out a small squeak and Jill's eyes fluttered open. She stretched and groaned, the nurse in her taking over for a second as she inventoried every ache and pain. It took her a few seconds to focus on Mike and the baby.

"Hey, Babe. You wanna say hello to our new son?" Mike asked as Jill reached out to take the baby. Mike got up and carefully laid the baby in Jill's arms. "He's a little early, but the doctor said he's fine, just fine."

Mike watched as she took apart the baby's tightly swaddled blanket. She was doing as just about every new mother did. She wanted to have a good look at her new son, count his fingers and toes, marvel at how tiny his hands and feet were, touch his cheek and feel the softness of his skin, smell his hair and the back of his neck, look into his eyes and let him focus on her face, whisper of her love in his tiny ear, let him grasp her finger. Willie would have told him not to interrupt her as this was part of the all important bonding process between mother and child.

Jill glanced up and caught Mike's eye as she finished rewrapping the baby and cuddled him near her neck. "He's beautiful, Mike. Absolutely perfect," she said her face alight with joy.

"It's been a long haul, but we finally did it, Babe. This has got to be your best anniversary gift yet." Mike said as he sat next to her on the bed and skimmed his hand down the baby's back. "I'm so proud of you."

"Remember the day you asked me if I wanted to be the mother of your children? I think Michael Jonathan Danko, the Second would be a perfect name," Jill said and gently rubbed the baby's back when he began to fuss.

"It fits him to a tee. I love you," Mike said and kissed her on the forehead.

Jill reached with her free hand and touched Mike's face. "And I love you," she said softly.

"That's what it's all about isn't it?" Mike asked.

"Sure is. That's what it's always been about," Jill said and smiled.


End file.
